


clavicle, cephalic vein, pectoralis major

by akissontitan



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Established Relationship, Lingerie, M/M, Nipple Play, Tenderness, gratuitous mentions of soft chests and tummies; as per the nikki brand(tm)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 04:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11328750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akissontitan/pseuds/akissontitan
Summary: “I'm glad you're into this,” Lucas smiles, pausing to meet Magnus halfway for another lingering kiss, “because I’m gonna make you come from it.”





	clavicle, cephalic vein, pectoralis major

**Author's Note:**

> A commission from a dear friend!!! Why has this ridiculous ship taken a hold of me. I'm mad.

"I think... I ordered the wrong size."

Magnus' voice is small, muffled from the bathroom door between them and hindered by a slight note of disappointment. Lucas absolutely won’t stand for it.

"Lemme see, maybe I can help." He offers, inching the door open just a tentative fraction. Magnus opens it the rest of the way, leaving Lucas' hand hovering awkwardly in the space between them.

Lucas stares. Magnus stands; a little nervous and a little dejected, but _gorgeous_ in a way that Lucas hasn’t quite fathomed before.

It'd taken them almost an hour to decide on the perfect set of lingerie to order, and a week's wait for it to arrive in the mail, but seeing Magnus filling it now has Lucas feeling like his time and money was more than well spent.

And _filling_ it Magnus truly was. They certainly _could_ have gone a size up, with the pale blue lace elastic cupping the soft peaks of his chest and digging into his waist just enough to coax redness from his skin. They... _could_ have. Lucas wets his lips, suddenly very, _very_ glad that they chose not to.

"Dunno what you're talking about. It's fucking _perfect_." He smiles at Magnus' small blush, and rocks forward on his toes to wrap his arms as best he can around his bare neck. "You wanna play, or just wear it for a while?"

Magnus doesn't quite meet his eyes when he says _"Want you now…"_ , low and shy in his throat.

Lucas feels the beginnings of that same want blossoming between his legs, and turns his head to kiss and nip Magnus' collar bone before he says something embarrassing. 

"Let's get comfy,” he manages after a minute, reaching down to squeeze Magnus’ hand in his own, “I wanna see how you look on the bed.”

Of all things, that’s what causes Magnus to groan, free hand shifting to palm himself through the lace covering his dick. He’s not hard yet, but there’s noticeable _interest_ there, and it makes Lucas’ mouth water.

As he watches Magnus make his way over to their bed, Lucas can’t help but think that he walks like a baby deer in these new clothes, all tentative and soft-footed, like the smallest misstep might split his bralette in two. If it hadn’t been so expensive, Lucas might almost enjoy that idea, but as it stands he takes his pleasure in watching his big, oafish boyfriend clamber onto the mattress as if he were a fawn.

“Well?” Magnus’ face splits in a bashful grin when he _poses_ , hand in his loose hair like he’s a pin-up girl and not a 230 pound man, “How’s the view?”

Suddenly Lucas isn’t sure why he’s still got clothes on. He swallows the lump of lust and affection in his throat, barely. “Even b-better up close, I bet.”

When he crawls onto the bed to meet him, _hold_ him, the first thing he notices is the warmth to Magnus’ skin, despite wearing practically nothing. It’s not unexpected, really; Magnus is _always_ warm, always blushing down to his core before they even get started. Only, this time, when Lucas pulls back to look at him, the blush in the valley of his chest is framed by ornate blue, the heave of each breath amplified by the ebb and flow of fabric.

“ _Jeez_ , dude, take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Any bite to Magnus’ words is offset by the fact that he won’t quite meet his eyes. Lucas snorts laughter, and plucks the scrunchie off of his wrist to tie his hair away.

“Pictures aren’t much good for _touching_ , is the thing.”

Next comes his shirt, off and over his head, the friction freeing a few errant strands of hair from his ponytail.

If Magnus has some cheeky rebuttal to this comment, he doesn’t share it.

If Lucas has any reason to not be kissing him right now, he can’t think of it.

Once he’s in Magnus’ lap, the firmness between his legs is more evident. There’s not much sensation through Lucas’ pants, but he can _imagine_ the feeling on Magnus’ end; the raw rub of lace against his growing erection. That alone, the _idea_ of it, has Lucas eager and damp between his own thighs, but he resolves to largely ignore himself. It’s not difficult, with such a pretty specimen so close and soft. He _wants_ to.

Their kisses devolve from mostly to not-at-all chaste within moments, the heat of Magnus’ body evident even on his lips. When Lucas presses their chests together, the fabric of Magnus’ bra grazes him, and it’s all he can do to keep from moaning into his mouth.

And then, a hypothesis: Lucas’ chest isn’t even that sensitive. Magnus, with his sweet, always-soft nipples and burning skin... _well_. He reaches a hand between them until he feels a tiny swell under lace, and he palms it, and Magnus _keens_.

Lucas can’t help but smirk, their kiss turning to all teeth. Conclusive evidence.

“Wh-- _Lucas_ ,” Magnus starts, and then stops when Lucas presses consoling kisses into his neck and repeats the motion again.

“Nice?” He prompts.

Magnus’ response comes only as an eager nod, and Lucas’ smile broadens. He shifts a little, allowing Magnus to adjust his legs before coming to rest on his thighs again, and pinches the areola between two fingers. It’s gentle enough to not make Magnus moan, but when Lucas looks down between them, he finds he can hardly keep a noise from his own throat; the flesh is pink and tender, and the tiny bead of Magnus’ nipple is hardening in his grip, poking out just enough to interrupt the swell of his chest.

Beneath him, Magnus shifts his hips, and it’s as if that motion forces a sound from Lucas regardless of his efforts. “ _Fuck_ ,” he starts, still staring at the peaking skin, “that’s beautiful, Maggie. That’s... _so_ fucking cute.”

Magnus nods without looking down, clearly feeling what Lucas means in every nerve.

“Does it hurt?” Lucas asks, and rubs the heel of his palm against the coarse lace for emphasis.

He starts another series of brisk nods, but slows guiltily. Lucas feels warm in his belly, knowing that Magnus is trying to verbalise for him.

“Yeah... but it’s good. Great, actually. And you like it, so...”

Lucas butts his head against Magnus’ shoulder at that. “I like _you_ , dumbass, you don’t have to facilitate my pre-disposition for messing with your tits if you’re not into it.”

He glances up just in time to glimpse a confused furrow to Magnus’ brow. “Sure. Okay. But I _am_ into it.”

“Good,” Lucas smiles, and meets Magnus halfway for another lingering kiss, “because I’m gonna make you come from this.”

Before Magnus can formulate a response, Lucas takes his other nipple between thumb and forefinger and tugs forward, twisting the first in tandem. That earns him another wild keen, Magnus’ head thrown back to expose the line of his neck, and Lucas doesn’t deprive himself of biting it, scraping teeth just by his jugular. Still warm, but now pricked with shivers, Magnus’ hands curl around him as if his grip on Lucas’ waist is the only thing keeping him from falling.

“ _Luc..._ ” Magnus whispers, like he’s nervous, “can’t we do more?”

Lucas’ bites turn tender, kissing up to his jaw and his ear and his cheek. “Aw, babe. As if I won’t be able to get you hard again.”

His reward is a sharp cant of Magnus’ hips against him, _so_ close to satisfying that it makes him ache for more. For _deeper_ , and thorough. Lucas steels his resolve and distracts his wanting body by dragging a fingernail across the lace on Magnus’ swollen chest.

Beneath him, he feels Magnus twitch, so he skates a hand down the swell of his belly to adjust his erection. The elastic has just enough give to comfortably expose the head, damp and leaking, and it’s nothing to flatten a palm against the soft fat of his belly and encourage him down until his back hits mattress. It’s _everything_ to look at; the way his hair fans loose across the sheets and the sheen of sweat on his forehead. A blotchy red blush has migrated up and outward, covering his cheeks and ears and shoulders, all the way down to his bellybutton. The pangs in Lucas’ core make his forearms shake when he rests forward on them, braced beside Magnus’ head as he leans in to kiss him deep, messy. 

"Just rub against me, okay?” Lucas instructs as he pulls away and sits up. Straddling him as he is, Magnus makes a spectacular vision, and he feels a little pink in his own cheeks at just how deeply Magnus seems to be drinking in his own view. 

When Lucas’ fingers graze Magnus’ nipple again, he obeys, wide hips rutting up to seek the heat from Lucas’ own. The motion rocks him, but Lucas keeps his hands surgeon-steady as he peels the bralette’s strap down Magnus’ shoulder, exposing the slight mound of his chest.

The left side, Lucas can’t help but think. Closer to the heart, anatomically. 

The unwrapped skin looks irritated and red, a faint outline of a teardrop-shaped cup still searing white lines onto his flesh. The tip of his nipple has receded again, but otherwise the area is swollen and puffy, and when Lucas leans a little closer, he can see dainty purple veins like petals near the surface. 

“You’re so pretty like this...” he marvels, largely to himself, but Magnus’ body still reacts, fingertips finding and digging in to Lucas’ hipbones as he pushes up against him. A brush against his own crotch has Lucas dizzy for a moment, and he lets himself ease forward until their chests touch again. 

This close, but this dazed, Lucas can’t quite tell if he’s _really_ seeing Magnus’ chest patter minutely with the force of his heartbeat, but he hopes what his eyes are telling him is true. 

He lets his head drop, and presses kisses to every exposed measure of Magnus’ chest – clavicle, cephalic vein, pectoralis major – until he reaches the velvet-soft of his nipple and licks, encouraging Magnus’ steadily pumping hips with intermittent sucks and tender bites. 

“Luc, _fuck_ ,” Magnus breathes, and so close to his chest Lucas can tell how much air it takes him, “’m close, you’re wet through your pants, c’mon, _please_ , can I—" 

Lucas cuts him off with a roll of his hips in tandem with a sharp bite. When he pulls off, the impression of his teeth is clear around Magnus’ nipple, an ornate frame around a perfect picture. Magnus’ head is thrown back, cock twitching heavy against him, and Lucas takes his time savouring the last of their pulled-taught tension in hot kisses, before he whispers _“Hey now. Be good for me, Magnus”_ , and his pretty, soft, strong man is coming against the crux of his thigh, spilling hot between them. 

There’s no way for Lucas to come with so little contact, but he’s shocked at how _close_ he gets, his body clenching and pulsing in need. He keeps his eyes open to watch Magnus, though; the way his orgasm hits and then ebbs away in fractions, leaving him gasping and boneless like something so much smaller. 

It’s a long few moments before Magnus inhales to speak, and Lucas doesn’t look away for any of them. 

“Did I... ruin them?” He asks. Lucas only realises what he means when he nods downwards to where their crotches meet, the shaft of his cock barely covered by the panties, now somewhat askew. 

Lucas shakes his head no; mostly it’s the trail of hair surrounding his bellybutton that’s damp with cum. Without deliberation, Lucas shuffles down Magnus’ thighs until he can lean forward to lap at the area, alternating kisses and love bites to the sweet bulk of his tummy. Magnus gasps, spent dick twitching by Lucas' shoulder, the last of his release milked from him. 

“You’re good.” Lucas says between licks to warm skin, “We got a lot left of you to ruin.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me and a menagerie of my other taz fics on twitter [@nycreous](http://twitter.com/nycreous)! I have a ko-fi link on there now, just sayin'.
> 
> I thrive on comments!! Tell me your favourite passage, or something that made you blush. It fuels my desire to write More(tm). Love u!!!! xxxx


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